


Cursed

by AnselaJonla



Series: Prompt fills [12]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-06 03:39:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16380668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnselaJonla/pseuds/AnselaJonla
Summary: Prompt response for the r/WritingPrompts post: [wp] you're an out of work adventurer and you're finding it difficult to find another party to join, because the ghosts of all your old team mates keep warning new prospective teammates to stay away from you because any party you join inevitably meets doom...





	Cursed

As the latest group of adventurers turns me down, I feel my temper begin to rise. I have had more than enough of my former friends' behaviour, constantly driving away any chance I have of earning a living through their petty grievances. Before the pretty mage and her companions have even left, I turn to face my quite-literal ghosts.

"Will you just  _shut up_  for ten bloody minutes. You lot are your own worst enemies, I hope you realise that. Most of the deaths that happen around me are because  _you lot_  are a massive bloody distraction."

I run my hand through my hair, uncaring that everyone in the tavern is looking at me and my entourage now. I stare directly at the oldest of the ghosts, my former mentor and the leader of my first ever adventuring band. As far as I'm concerned, he's the main source of my woes.

"I was a newbie, barely out of the guild's training grounds, when we met. I was so happy to have been chosen to fill the empty slot in your band, Master Queron. I knew that being trained directly by an adventurer of your calibre would set my career on the right path. And then you all died, and I was the only one left standing. _But that wasn't my fault_."

I take a deep breath, and force my hands to uncurl before my nails break my skin. "I wasn't the one who triggered the trap that woke the draugr. I wasn't the one who thought we could take on a Draugr Priest-King and his entire court instead of fleeing. I did my part, I tried my best, my arrows took down my share of the horde, and I was prepared to die with my weapons in hand, and a battlecry on my lips.

"Instead the Priest-King let me live, cursing me to be followed by the spirits those who die in battle near me. I didn't realise that at first, I was just so relieved to have survived when no one else did. I thought your return was a  _good_ thing, Master Queron, that you'd teach me so I could one day get revenge."

I grab a tankard from a nearby table as I pace, and down its to wet my throat. Airing my grievances against my former comrades in arms is thirsty work. The beer in this tavern tastes like moose piss though.

"And at first you were helpful. You pointed out several traps that my next band's leader missed. Jerin, you continued to teach me how to improve my skills with a bow. And I learnt more healing magic from you in death, Seral, than I did when you were alive. But then, when things got tricky in a tomb, you started to be more of a distraction. And eventually, that distraction got someone killed. Over, and over again. Your numbers grew, and you started to be a nuisance even before I joined a band, gleefully explaining that you all died while adventuring with me.

"All of those deaths were  _your faults_."

I point at Queron. "You were talking to Mistral when she fell into that punji trap in Yngvild. And you distracted Fjaris when he was fighting that Draugr Lord in Yngold, resulting in him missing a block and getting sliced open."

My finger moves to Jerin. "If you hadn't been in that screaming match against K'jat, we would have spotted that troll nest in time to prevent Gorik and Henrik's deaths."

On and on I go, reminding them who was responsible for the distraction that led to someone's death.

"Blame me if you want, but I didn't ask for this curse, and  _you_  are the ones causing the deaths. If you weren't so keen to distract my companions, then no one would die. Or they'd be less likely to, anyway."

My ghostly entourage shuffles silently. Some of them even look embarrassed. I look over to see that the pretty mage has left already, her mind already made up about not taking me with her.

"Now, I'm going to find another adventuring band looking for a ranger-healer to fill out their complement. And  _you lot_ are all going to keep your traps shut. Understood?"

I don't wait for an answer, sweeping out of the tavern and into the cold night air. Urgh. Maybe this time that lot will actually listen to my complaints.


End file.
